A Question Of Madness
by Apathy Undone
Summary: Not all heroes have happy endings. Sometimes sacrifices are necessary but unwillingly paid. And sometimes people will do all in their power to change fate. Warning; AU, dark, character death, H/Hr.
1. Chapter 1: Funerals

Story: A Question of Madness

_Description: Not all heroes have happy endings. Sometimes sacrifices are necessary but unwillingly paid. And sometimes people will do all in their power to change fate. AU, dark, character death, H/Hr. (Re-uploaded)_

_Authors Note: RE-UPLOADED, I started this over a year ago I think, only 2 chapters, and abandoned it until now but have re-edited it and am reposting. This is my first Harry Potter story and I know most of it will be cliche but I hope some of you readers enjoy it anyways. Warnings: Character death and dark themes, rather graphic in some areas, non-canon pairings, AU, begins at the end of the final battle at Hogwarts, also Severus, Remus, Fred, and Tonks survive. Questions, comments, critiques will be appreciated._

_Chapter 1: Funerals_

Harry James Potter could remember the precise moment his world ended.

After six years of struggling to survive Voldemort's continuous attempts on his life, it was the life of another he stole that killed Harry Potter. Another who was loved and cherished above all others by Harry, who had loved him without hesitation, who had fought and bled beside him for six years, who had proven her loyalty countless times over to him. Another… who was named the brightest witch of her age… Hermione Granger.

The moment her soul abandoned her body was the moment Harry died.

The memory was so painfully clear in his mind.

Harry had been facing off with Voldemort. Bright lights of spells flying through the air lit their faces with an eerie glow. Hermione was beside him fighting Greyback. He could see her tiring, wearing down under the constant assault, both physical and magical. They were all tiring, they'd been fighting for hours.

Greyback danced around her, hurling spells at her with such force that each was like a physical blow. With every spell her movements grew a little more sluggish. She was more than a match spellwise against him but Greyback was a full-grown man, and werewolf, he had energy stores that Hermione did not and the moment she faltered, he leapt on her.

Harry watched her fall under the feral man's weight in the corner of his eye and he shot a flurry of spells at Voldemort to distract him then viciously aimed the killing curse at Greyback. The spell met its mark and he was never so happy to see someone's eyes light up with that sickly green light of death. He knew he should feel guilty for killing a man but they couldn't afford to play nice right now. It was kill or be killed.

He exhaled in relief as Hermione shoved his dead weight off of her and scrambled to her feet, gratitude in her exhausted golden brown eyes.

But that gratitude turned to horror in an instant as she glanced to Voldemort then back at Harry. A green light exploded from the Dark Lord's wand and headed straight towards Harry. Too late he realized he'd lingered a moment too long. He couldn't even believe this was how it was going to end.

Time seemed to slow down for him. In the corner of his eye he saw Hermione leap towards him calling his name, the green light approached and Harry braced himself for death.

Only the end did not come for him.

Instead of death he felt Hermione shoving him hard away from her as she took his place and the spell sunk deep into her chest. He stared in shock as the green lit up her eyes and her body turned into an empty husk.

His ears rang and the only thing that penetrated the fog of shock in his mind was that cold cackle coming from some feet away from him.

Harry felt something snap inside him. Voldemort had stolen his family, his friends, countless innocent people, and now the one girl who had loved him through thick and thin, the girl he had seen himself marrying. He had _murdered _her. And now he was _laughing._

A cold fury entered his eyes and his mouth set in a determined line, his dark hair whipped around and he stood rigidly, raising his wand arm and pointing it at Voldemort. He remembered her laugh, the way she would double over and hold on to his shoulder… he remembered her sweet vanilla scent that wafted by him each time she leaned over him to correct his work. He could feel the power building inside him and he focused on his parents and Hermione, everything he loved about her, and how she was gone and he would never hold her again, how he never got a chance to know his mother and father, how they had died to protect him.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _

The words were pronounced with so much hate and venom, the intent was clear and unmistakable.

A jet of green light erupted from his wand and before Voldemort could counter it, the light enveloped him and Harry coldly watched his enemy finally fell. It was oddly anticlimactic… and Harry felt nothing but a cold black rage in his chest at the creature that had ruined his life.

It was so tragically easy, one second there and the next gone.

In the next few moments, cracks of apparition could be heard as the Deatheaters tried to flee. Cowards. Nothing without their master. The remaining fighters for the Order and the Aurors attacked with renewed vigor, trying to incapacitate and capture as many as possible before they fled. There was movement all around the Hogwarts grounds as people found one another and started identifying the dead. Cries of relief and despair could be heard throughout the area as people took account of their loved ones.

Ron Weasley ran up to Harry and clapped his shoulder, failing to see the broken expression on his face looking down at the girl who lay at his feet.

"You did it mate! We won!" he cried exultantly.

Harry shoved him away and collapsed to his knees, reaching for Hermione's dead body and pulling her into his arms. Fury, agony, despair, and heartache swallowed him whole and shredded his heart as he buried his face in her curls.

"_Why Hermione_?" he rasped painfully, "Why the_ fuck_ did you have to save me!?…_Why did you do it_…" his shoulders shook as he cradled her in his arms, murmuring nonsensically. His heart had shattered watching the life leave her body and he wished with all his heart that he had died in her place. She had given her life for him and he couldn't bring her back. She was another casualty of this war. Another one lost. Another one he wouldn't get to share his life with.

In confusion Ron finally looked down at the body Harry was clinging to as if his life depended on it.

His face twisted in a grimace of shock, he grasped his red hair roughly with his hands, "No… not her, Merlin, please not her…" he wailed and he dropped beside Harry and took one of her pale hands in his. "I'm so sorry Mione… I'm sorry," he sobbed as the tears ran down his freckled face.

The girl the both of them had loved was gone. The two young men wept over her body and to them, the battle had not been won. For nobody wins in war.

_Where are you now? _

_Are you lost?_

_Will I find you again?_

A week had passed since the final battle. People were still mourning the loved ones lost and several funerals had already been held. Among the fallen were Mad Eye Moody and Colin Creevey, those were the only two that Harry had ever had some sort of a relationship with. The other casualties were familiar faces but he could place names to very few of them, and at the moment he could not say he cared.

It was rather heartless of him, he thought, but he had lost his heart the moment _she _died. Now there was only a massive gaping hole where his heart should have been. He had no heart to offer compassion or comfort for others in mourning.

Hermione's funeral was in an hour, it would be on Hogwart's grounds out by the Black Lake. They were holding it at the school as a tribute for her… she died protecting the school, protecting the light, and so they would bury her on the very grounds she loved.

And that was where Harry could be found. He sat on the edge of the Black Lake, staring blankly out across the dark water. Anyone who knew him would have to be blind not to see something was wrong. His hair was in a messier state than it's usual disarray, his clothes were rumpled and hung loose on his thin frame, his eyes, though hidden behind his glasses, were red-rimmed and weary.

The emotional stress was taking a physical toll on him, and his comrades could only hope he would grieve and move one, it was the right thing to do after all… right?

Is there something wrong with you if you don't move on? If you don't want to? Everyone kept telling him it would just take time and he would move on with life, if he didn't then he was just wasting the life Hermione had saved. But he refused to acknowledge their reasoning.

When you love someone, they stay with you forever, you never give up on them. And Harry would never give up on her, he would wait for her until the day he died.

He couldn't accept that he would never see her again, he couldn't believe she was truly gone. He_ wouldn't. _

He kept expecting to find her sequestered in some corner or the library reading a book and she would look up at him with a soft smile and say "_Sorry, I lost track of time…" _

But every time his wandering feet took him to the library, she wasn't there.

Tears slipped unbidden down his cheeks again as his heart throbbed in agony. There was a knife in his chest and each time he thought of her, someone twisted it deeper. Her face haunted his mind, he could hear her sweet voice asking him why he was hurting himself, why he was pushing everyone away, and he would say to her, _"Because I love you…", _and she would give him a sad smile and fade away. He asked her image to stay, pleaded even, and she would cry but leave all the same then all he would be left with were his memories and pain.

_Why did she have to die? Why her? _

Harry looked to the cloudy sky, daring it to answer him.

"Why did you take her?!" he shouted into the crisp air, he wanted an answer, any answer, anything that would tell him why they took her and left him to live this life alone.

Receiving only silence, Harry hauled himself to his feet and glared hollowly out at the lake. His clothes rippled against him in the wind and his hair whipped in front of his eyes, he shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to leave. That was when he felt _her _come back. He could feel her gentle presence in his mind and he closed his eyes and reached out for her.

_Oh Harry… _he felt her frown affectionately at him, concern and love shining through her warm brown eyes.

"Why do you always leave me?" he asked aloud, his voice nothing more than a soft whisper.

_But I'm here now… _

"And you will leave again."

_It's not my choice Harry. _

He knew she had no tolerance for self-pity, he gave a half-hearted chuckle, "I miss you Mione…" he murmured, turning solemn again.

_I know you do… _she smiled in his mind and he couldn't help but feel like the knife was twisting deeper.

He imagined her placing a gentle hand on his cheek, ruffling his hair playfully with the other, trying to lighten the mood. The pain began to bubble over and his eyes brimmed with more unshed tears.

When she was there with him, the pain eased, he felt like it was only the two of them again.

It was peaceful and warm.

When she left, the cold emptiness descended upon him again and the pain erupted like fire in his veins.

He needed her. Life was empty without her.

The sound of crunching leaves caused his head to dart up and he saw someone approaching. As he got closer, Harry saw it was Ron. He searched for Hermione's presence but she had left him…again.

Ron reached him in a moment's time and slung an arm around Harry's shoulder. He bitterly noticed that Ron seemed to be in good spirits even though it was their best friend's funeral. Harry felt a rush of vehemence towards his red-headed friend for not being as tormented as he himself was.

"So this is where you've been Harry, Mum was lookin' all over for you. The ceremony's startin' in bout twenty minutes."

Harry nodded and let him lead them up to the array of chairs and tents. There were tables under the white tents filled with food and Harry pursed his lips to withhold the barrage of protests and insults building up inside him. People stood in clusters holding champagne glasses, laughing and talking. This wasn't a fucking party. This was a funeral. Normally the memorials and funerals were kept separate but it was someone's grand idea to combine the two because of the sheer number of funerals they were holding in wake of the war. Thought it would be more efficient… but to him it was just more disrespectful.

It infuriated him.

This was how they paid their respects for their war heroine. He was willing to bet half of these people only came because it was a huge social event. Fucking social climbers they were. Most of them had probably insulted Hermione at one point or another, who knew if they actually cared that she had died for them.

Ron dragged him through the throngs of annoying people to the circle in which Molly Weasley was standing.

"Ah Harry! There you are," she exclaimed, pulling him in for a quick hug, " I know this is a rough day for you love but everything'll be alright soon enough. Now about your speech dear, we thought we would save you for last. We were hoping you might say something about the war, just tell everyone what it felt like when it was over or something like that, should be enough to satisfy the reporters. Minerva will be opening and you will go after Ron here." she said with a quick smile and patted Ron's arm.

Of course he would go last… he was Harry Bloody Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, they had him speak last so people wouldn't leave early. Everyone wanted to hear the Chosen One commemorate his fallen comrade, no… they just wanted to hear him speak about the end of the war, that was what they really wanted. Everyone wanted a piece of him, they all were going to clamor to speak with him at the end… all vying for an autograph, interview, a nice word.

His face was stony as he stood beside Mrs. Weasley who had diverted her attention and was talking animatedly with Tonks.

He was tired of catering to everyone's whims, tired of being the center of attention only when they wanted something from him. This day was supposed to be about Hermione, not him.

"No." he said icily.

The whole circle grew silent and turned to look at him. Mrs. Weasley looked a bit flustered, "What was that dear?"

Harry scowled and his green eyes flashed.

"I said no. I will not be speaking today. This day is about Hermione, and Hermione alone." he stated.

"You all seem to forget that." he hissed accusingly, " Did you forget that Hermione gave her life to save mine? Have you forgotten all those years she spent helping me fight and destroy Voldemort?" his voice was cold, "She deserves more respect than this. She deserves better."

Lupin, Tonks, and Professor McGonagall had the decency to wince but the others just looked irritated with his admonishment. Mrs. Weasley frowned and scolded him.

"Now Harry, we know you are hurting right now but that is no reason to take it out on us. We haven't stood by you all these years just to be treated so rudely, young man. All these people are here to say goodbye to Hermione, you can't expect them to just sit here and do nothing while they wait for the speeches to start."

"We're celebrating her life, Harry." Tonks quipped.

Harry savagely stared her down until she looked away.

"I hold fast with my earlier statement Mrs. Weasley. I will not be speaking today." he declared coldly and shrugged off Ron's hand on his shoulder before striding angrily away from the shocked group.

Hermione's white casket lay on a platform in front of rows of colorless empty chairs. He approached it slowly, calming his mind before reaching her.

Harry climbed up to the casket and laid a hand on it hoping he would be able to feel her. But he felt nothing. She wasn't there. He reverently lifted the lid and inhaled sharply as his eyes roamed over his dead friend's body.

"Hermione…" he murmured, reaching in to stroke her bloodless cheek.

The knife in his chest twisted violently and he gasped as the pain took over. Then almost immediately her calming presence filled his mind and he felt her hand on his shoulder. He shuddered and placed his hand over her corpse's neatly folded hands.

_I'm here Harry… don't fret…_ she soothed. He imagined her lips pressing a soft kiss against his cheek and squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

"You deserve better than this Hermione. All these people, they don't care… they shouldn't be here." he growled harshly.

She smiled mournfully, _Then make them leave Harry._

He almost dismissed her comment but after a moment of contemplation his emerald eyes narrowed.

Harry gave her a soft smirk, "_Sonorus," _ he murmured, turning towards the masses.

"If I could have your attention everyone," his voice echoed across the field. Conversations ceased and everyone turned toward the Boy Who Lived with expectant gazes.

"I appreciate you all being here today but I must ask you to leave," he paused as a rash of angry and confused murmurs spread across the crowd, "I understand you all have come to pay your respects to the late Hermione Granger, so consider them paid and get out of here."

Confused faces stared back at him but upon seeing his serious demeanor about half of the crowd shrugged and did as he commanded because he was the famed war hero, the Boy Who Lived, but the other half stayed and stared at him with confusion, irritation, and hurt.

Ron ran up to him, his face pinched in irritation, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing mate?!" he demanded.

Harry glared down at him, "I'm giving Hermione the respect she deserves." he spat.

Then he addressed the remaining crowd, "I said get out." His aura crackled and a slight wind sprung up, whipping at his hair and clothes giving him a wild look. Fear and uncertainty sprouted in his comrades and friends eyes. A flurry of apparition cracks could be heard as they left. Remus and Tonks gave him a sad look before leaving. Harry felt a small bit of guilt root in his soul but he forced it away. Mrs. Weasley gave him a disapproving frown before disapparating with Ginny and then the twins were the last to leave besides Ron.

Harry's attention fell back to his former best mate.

Ron snarled at him, "What's going on with you mate? What, since you defeated Voldemort that gives you the right to go bossing people around like you own the place?"

"They were disrespecting her Ron. What was I supposed to do, keep quiet and sit still!? What if they had been doing this at my funeral Ron? What would you have done!?"

A grimace swept across Ron's angry face, "Well that's different mate…" he said uncertainly.

Fury ignited inside him and a green fire burned in his eyes, "No Ron. It's not different. Hermione was just as important as I was, and she deserves respect for her sacrifice. Now get out, I don't want you here."

Ron scowled and apparated away without another word. Finally silence… peace… quiet…

Harry felt her smile at him.

_Nicely done Potter… _she applauded sarcastically.

"I did it for you." he said, bending down and placing an affectionate kiss on her corpse's forehead.

_Song Lyrics- Red- Hymn For The Missing_


	2. Chapter 2: Revelations

_Chapter 2: Revelations_

Harry was woken from a troubled sleep by a loud banging. He stumbled and fell out of bed, the dark sheets wrapped around his legs, and glanced at the clock reading _7:00._

He was still bleary eyed from sleep as he grabbed his glasses and tripped out of his bedroom wearing boxers and a faded old t-shirt. His hair stuck out in a wild black mess and he grumbled heading to the door. The infernal banging vibrated in his ears and he felt sure his head was going to explode.

"Alright alright! I'm coming!" he shouted irritably, wanting nothing more than the noise to cease.

He lurched open the door and scowled at the source of the infernal noise.

"What do you want?"

"Potter," he greeted, "I can see living on your own hasn't improved your sense of propriety or hygiene." Snape stated, his dark eyes disdainful as he took in Harry's unkempt appearance.

Harry narrowed his eyes then turned away and headed towards the kitchen.

"You look as if you haven't left this house for weeks." Snape drawled, watching the young hero fix a pot of coffee.

Harry sighed, he'd lost track of the days since Hermione's funeral… about two months? maybe three? He didn't know, and he didn't care.

In fact he couldn't say he cared about anything at the moment, nothing except Hermione. She stayed with him most his days, often scolding him for turning all his visitors away but he just wanted time with her, nobody else. He noticed that she tended to hang around longer and more often when he was alone, when he was in the company of other people she vanished. So to resolve the problem, he simply stopped entertaining guests.

Her disapproval never lasted very long… she cared for him too much.

Even if he hadn't turned people away for the sole reason of spending more time with her, he still would have secluded himself anyways. He enjoyed being alone. His former friends had nothing to offer him any longer, he had no need for their loyalty, friendship, or love. And he had nothing to offer them in return, so he pushed them away. He was quite conscious of every hurt he instigated.

Each short word, withering glare, or missed get-together was planned and executed willingly on his part.

He had been successful in driving almost everyone away as well, it was rather curious how easy it was to destroy long-lasting relationships. Ron adamantly refused to speak with him after Harry went off on him when he tried to set them up with double dates. Ginny dropped by every once in a while just to check on him though she was now happily dating some bloke from the Ministry. Remus and Tonks didn't try to include him in their lives anymore… he had blown off so many of their invitations that eventually they'd stopped sending them, but they did send a final letter telling him that when ever he wanted to come visit he was welcome. Most of his other acquaintances had lost touch without much effort from him.

Now only the Weasley twins and Severus Snape were his regular correspondents. He found that nothing he did or said to the twins would drive them away. They just kept coming back with grins and new products for him to sample from their shop.

As for why Snape refused to bugger off, Harry didn't quite know.

"Snape, you know I hate idle chatter, you can stop pointing out things I already know. Now why are you here?" Harry asked wearily, running a hand through his mop of black hair.

Then he paused, "Actually, why are you here?" he looked at the clock again, _7:04 pm. _"Don't you normally come on Tuesdays?… Around lunchtime?" he frowned, puzzled and still slightly irritated, "Last time I checked, today was supposed to be a Snape-free day."

Snape gave him a stiff smile, "Is that the reason why you've been sleeping all day, Potter? I don't recall you looking like such a vagabond during my last visit."

His words made Harry flinch upon remembering the actual reason for his self-confinement to his bed today.

The old potions master surveyed him with calculating eyes before continuing, "Potter, I am here because you are…ill."

Harry's sluggish mind suddenly sharpened and his eyes flashed, his fingers tightened around his coffee mug.

"I'm fine." he replied tersely.

"Don't bother lying to me, Potter, I have seen this before… I know _she _is here."

He froze. _How did he know? _

Harry felt Hermione return suddenly, she had been gone all day and that was the reason for his irritable countenance. There had been a few days like that… and they were positively horrid. He couldn't endure them awake so he popped sleeping pills to pass the time. He had nightmares when she was away. When she was here, she kept them at bay, but she couldn't always be there… and she couldn't say why.

He felt Hermione's curiosity and fear at Snape's observation.

She wrapped her arms around Harry's waist and he could almost feel her chin resting on his shoulder and her soft curls brushing the back of his neck.

_Harry… be careful…_

Snape spoke again, " I know Ms. Granger is with you. I'm just surprised no one saw it before…" Snape frowned, "we should have known it would take more than death to separate that insufferable witch from you." he mused.

He heard Hermione chuckle softly.

_I think we can trust him Harry… I don't think he will trouble us._

_"_Neither do I." he murmured to her, relaxing.

Snape looked at him curiously, respect and concern growing for the student he'd treated with such disdain for so many years.

"How did you know?" Harry asked quietly.

"I'd suspected for awhile," he raised a brow condescendingly, "you were not exactly discreet about speaking with her in public establishments. It seemed as if you were talking to yourself but you never did when other people were around, and a few times I watched you reach into thin air as if grabbing something unseen. It was when you stopped visiting Ms. Grangers's grave that I suspected there was more to this than mere grief and madness." Snape answered seriously.

"And what do you intend to do with this information?" Harry demanded, a slight tinge of defensiveness straining his voice.

Snape turned his calculating eyes back on him, "What would you like me to do, Potter?"

_Ask him where he has seen this occurrence before Harry…_

"Who else have you encountered with this situation?" he asked, his avoidance of the previous question was not lost on his former professor.

"An old acquaintance of mine," Snape answered thoughtfully, "she works as an Unspeakable in the Ministry. In fact…" he trailed off.

"Go make yourself presentable Potter, I think it would benefit you to speak with her directly." he commanded, his tone brooking no room for arguments.

Harry's first instinct was to protest, the hell he was leaving when he felt so cruddy. But Hermione urged him to do as the old professor said… so he did.

Scowling irritably, he trudged up the stairs to make himself _presentable._

Twenty minutes later he was dressed in a pair of relatively nice jeans, and a black sweater, his hair had been hastily combed and now only looked slightly wild, he'd shaved the stubble off his face and brushed his teeth. Overall he thought he looked decent, not that he really cared what Snape thought of him but he supposed he did want to make a good impression on the lady whom Snape said was in a similar situation to his.

"Are you coming Hermione?" he murmured to the air.

_Yes, Harry.. I'll be with you the whole time._

He felt her assure him with an affectionate smile and his tensed shoulders relaxed.

Snape appraised him as he entered the kitchen again, he said nothing but the curl of his upper lip in disgust effectively relayed his thoughts.

Harry wanted to punch him.

He heard Hermione laugh, her sweet bell-like laughter echoed around him and allowed himself a small smile for her.

"Oh shut up you…" he grumbled fondly.

She chuckled again in answer and when Harry saw Snape staring at him again with those measuring eyes he ushered them to get going.

_You'll never be alone_

_when darkness comes I'll light the night with stars_

_hear the whispers in the dark_

Moments after leaving Grimmauld Place, Harry and Snape were standing in front of a little cottage out in the countryside. A cool breeze blew past them, the fresh air was welcoming, the whole place had a quaint homy feel. Flora of all sorts lined the walkway up to the door, everything was immaculately taken care of, even the paint on the house and fence looked new.

Harry looked down at himself then Snape, noting that their black attire was certainly at odds with the brightly colored cottage and its surroundings, he almost didn't want to go in for fear of tainting it with his tragedies.

But they knocked on the door anyways and waited.

Hermione had kept true to her word and was there with Harry, he could imagine her fingers entwined in his, her other hand stroking his arm comfortingly.

_What a lovely place Harry… it reminds me of Bill and Fleur's Shell Cottage._

_"_Yes it does, doesn't it… only Fleur can't garden worth shite." he murmured, remembering her first attempts at planting flowers. It had ended with Fleur crying about the dirt under her nails and throwing flower pots around.

_Don't be crude Harry! But you are right… _

She let out a full-throated laugh, _I really can't stand her you know…_

_"_Neither can I." he agreed.

The door swung open in the next moment and Harry looked at the person with interest. Whatever he had been expecting… she was not it. When Snape said she was an old acquaintance, he imagined some old lady, rather shrewd, someone more like who he thought a dark man like Snape would hang around with. He'd half expected her to be a former Deatheater, but seeing the bright little cottage had quickly disabused him of that notion.

The woman in front of him was average height, honey blonde hair, she couldn't have been more than forty, and bright sea blue eyes. She wore a simple floral dress that accented her curvy figure, but made her look gentle and homely all the same.

She smiled brightly at him, she was a curious creature, Harry couldn't quite figure out what made him uneasy about her… she looked perfectly happy and kind, yet he couldn't displace the feeling that something was off. He scrutinized her, trying to figure out what it was.

Snape cuffed him upside the head, "It is rude to stare, Potter."

Harry winced and glared at him, but he was right. He turned to the older woman and smiled charmingly, he gave her a polite bow and introduced himself.

"Ah Severus… so this is the young man you've told me so much about," she said amused, "well it is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter, won't you two come in?"

"Thank you Emma, " Snape greeted courteously, then he addressed Harry, "This is Emmeline Vance, an original member of the Order, now an Unspeakable."

The inside of the quaint cottage was similar to the outside, colorful but simple furniture decorated the interior, the walls were painted in soft pastels, flowery landscapes hung on the walls. Emmeline bustled them into the sitting room and fetched them some tea before sitting and facing them with a content open smile.

"So what brings you to visit me, Severus?" she queried.

Snape spoke quietly, as if speaking of a delicate or taboo subject, "Mr. Potter here, has found himself in a remarkably similar situation to your own a few years ago Emma."

She stiffened and Harry looked on with curiosity.

Her happy countenance and bright smile faded, Harry saw the sadness and grief creep into her bright blue eyes and he felt guilt worm through him.

"And what is it you wish to know?" she asked solemnly.

"I think Mr. Potter should hear the whole story Emma…" Snape said softly, it almost seemed like an apology.

Emmeline met Harry's green eyes with sorrow and despair, he knew she did not want to talk about this… but he had to ask anyways. He had to know what could happen.

_It's alright Harry, this is necessary…_

And Emmeline Vance began her story.

Harry listened avidly to her tale, it was so peculiar he almost wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't in the same situation as she. Hell if he'd attempted to explain his own story to himself he might do as everyone else did and write himself off as mad. He was not surprised to learn that no one had believed her when she needed help… except, of course, Severus Snape.

Before the first defeat of Voldemort, Emmeline had lived with her fiancé and fought with the Order of the Phoenix against the Deatheaters. They were young and in love, perfect victims for Voldemort. One afternoon, Emmeline's fiancé was patrolling an area in muggle London where Deatheaters were rumored to be when he was attacked. They did not kill him outright as per usual. They held him as hostage to lure out the other Order members. There was a recon unit sent to recover him and Emmeline was on it, they could hardly have asked her to stay behind since it was her fiancé they were holding captive. All had gone as planned in the reconnaissance mission until they got to his cell in the Dolohov's Manor. The Deatheaters were waiting for them and all were killed except Emmeline and her fiancé.

The Deatheaters tortured them for information, just as they had the Longbottoms. The Dark Lord killed Emma's fiancé right in front of her, they were chained a few feet apart and she was close enough to see the green light swipe the life out of his eyes but she couldn't hold him, she couldn't touch him. He died in front of her… just like Hermione died in front of him.

The Order assaulted the place right after and Emmeline was rescued… but her fiancé was dead. She was placed in St. Mungo's for a long time afterwards, they feared she'd gone mad like the Longbottoms, but she didn't. She was released two months after her rescue.

But she was different.

All her friends knew something was off about her; she was quieter, sadder, a little more addled than usual. She withdrew from everyone, pushed people away because all they would do was hurt her.

And she never told anyone that her fiancé was still with her just as Hermione was with him. No, she'd tried telling people in St. Mungo's but that was the wrong thing to do… after awhile she realized that she was the only one who would see or hear him and she stopped trying to make people see the truth. But she didn't stop seeing him. He was there with her, comforting her, loving her, telling her it wasn't her fault he died… that he was with her til the end.

Only Severus knew about him. Only he believed her when she told him her fiancé was there.

For some reason, Snape wanted to help her, he researched the afterlife and read hundreds of memoirs concerning loved ones who'd passed on. There was only one book that matched their situation. It was an old book dating back a few generations of the pureblood families, a dark book, from a time when Blood Magic was regularly practiced.

This book told a tragic tale of a dark wizard who'd loved and lost, only to have her haunt him in her afterlife. Their bond had been strong enough to keep her with him, an invisible line or chain that held her down to earth and allowed him alone to know of her existence. He tried hundreds of dark spells to resurrect her, to bring her back. But none were successful. The story only told of the occurrence, the beginning and some of their life together. It mentioned nothing of the end.

Harry's mind was swirling with questions, now he knew that Hermione wasn't the only one trapped here, but he couldn't imagine living life like this as long as Emmeline Vance did. She'd been in her early twenties when her fiancé was killed… more than twenty years had passed, living with a ghost that no one else could see.

He didn't want to live like that.

Was there not a way to bring Hermione back to life? She was already half-way here. He refused to accept that she would be dead for eternity. There had to be a way to bring her back, the universe couldn't do this to him… not after he'd saved the world from destruction at the hands of dark wizards, not after all he'd sacrificed. The older book had detailed accounts of all the dark spells he tested to bring her back. But that was so long ago, every year there were new magical developments. New spells, new boundaries and limits. There had to be _something._

"Your fiancé is still here Emma?" Snape questioned, and Harry's head perked up.

Emma gave them a small smile and nodded.

Harry watched her eyes grow sad again, "How do you live like this Ms. Vance?" he asked softly.

_Song- Whispers in the Dark- Skillet_


End file.
